Feedback welcomed, flamers, I have a pair of buttocks you can press your lips to...
By Taleya
//It's a hot tiiiime…on the town todaaaayyy….// Jim closed his eyes and tried to banish that annoying little interior yodeller. Bad enough he had to put up with court in the worst heatwave in Cascade on record.
Pouring a glass of water from the fridge, he took a long sip, rolling the frosted surface across his forehead, trying to become one with the cool surface. Hot hot hot. Very hot, too friggin' hot.
Taking another sip, he glanced up at the clock, then meandered over to the lower bedroom. Ten minutes until Simon came to pick him up. Why was Simon picking him up? Because his truck was in shop, after the events that were, in fact, being 'courted' today.
And because of University workload, that little bastard Sandburg didn't have to come, he mooched, pushing the door open with his foot.
Blair was sprawled face first on his bed, mumbling contentedly into a pillow. Naked, a thin strip of sarong-type material barely covering his backside, he soaked up the muggy heat of his room in blessed enjoyment.
Jim took another sip of his icewater, one hand tugging at his tie.
God he hated him.
This wasn't *fair!* There was Blair all lazed out and indolent, sprawling in the heat, sleeping in late and drooling on his pillow while Jim had to go to court. Unfair. Nasty mean and horribly unfair.
And so, Jim decided, was he.
Tip-toeing into the small room, wincing a little at the creak of the door, Jim paused beside his sleeping partner, watching the slow up and down of his back, slightly tanned muscles shifting back and forth, sarong balancing precariously.
Nasty, mean and horrible….
Gently lifting up the edge of the sarong, Jim calmly poured his glass of water and half-melted ice down Blair's crack.
~~~~~
Jesus. Who knew the kid's voice could go that high? Jim backed hurriedly out of the way of flailing limbs and watched a squealing Sandburg fall sideways off the bed, pawing at his butt. "ARRGH!!! SHIT!! SHIT!!!! COOOOOOLD!!!" Blair shook his backside in the air, then turned, a look of pure hatred steaming at Jim.
"You." He unfurled himself to his full height, the sarong flapping off to god knows where, uncaring of his nudity. "You."
Jim backed away.
"You. You. You." Blair seemed stuck on the word, then he grabbed a pillow. "YOU BASTARD!" Pillow after pillow was snatched up and flung.
Jim ducked, weaved, up down, left - shit, he thought that one was going to be an overhand toss - then turned and ran as Blair advanced on him, waving a giant cushion dangerously.
"Bastaaaaaaaaard!!!" Blair yodelled, hotfooting it in pursuit of his sentinel.
Jim hit the back of the couch, toppled over it, flipped, and rolled to his feet in a neat little covert ops maneuvre. Blair simply cleared the couch backing in one leap and stood on the cushions, hair flying around his face, teeth bared in a victorious grin, still waving his cushion like some triumphant native from a cheap Indiana Jones rip off. Any minute now, Jim *knew* he was gonna start jumping up and down and hooting.
"BASTAAAARD!!"
Jim dove straight under the coffee table to get away as Blair pounced, eeling out the other side and fleeing for the door. Suit be damned. Court be damned. There was a look in Blair's eyes that told every cell of his hindbrain to *run.*
He made it to the door, ducking and dodging flying stuffing all the way, and managed to get the locks undone before having to move, ducking and barely missing the cushion that smashed into the wall inches from his head, knocking the phone off the wall.
"Bastaaard!" Blair yodelled again, the end of the word lost in laughter as he chased Jim across the lounge again, in front of the balcony doors, pinning him near the base of the stairs. "You bastard!!" It seemed all he was capable of, modesty and sanity be damned as he threw everything soft, non-breakable and guaranteed not to mess Jim's clothing up in the loft at his partner. "I'm gonna kill you, you baaaastaaaaaaaard!!!!" he screamed.
~~~~~
//I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!// Simon drew his gun at the words and pelted up the last flight of stairs. Skidding to a stop outside the loft door, he counted to three, then kicked the door in. "Police FREEZE!"
Simon's gun fell from suddenly limp fingers. He had heard the hoots, the howls, the thumping noises and muffled curses. Weapon drawn, he had kicked in the door, ready to defend…
And found a laughing Jim being chased around the loft by a naked, hairy bundle of Blair.
"Simon!"
"eeep."
Jim hastily stopped and straightened his tie. Blair turned beet red and grabbed a cushion to cover his manhood.
Simon stared.
"uh…it's not what you think…sir…..?" Blair offered tentatively, grabbing another cushion to cover the rear, as it were.
Mouth curling in disgust and sweat sticking his pants to his body unmentionable places, Simon flapped a hand and holstered his gun. "I don't care. Do what you do, just tone it down ok?"
With a barely clutched cushion covering his front, and another cushion covering his backside, everything else naked, Blair mumbled something and tried to sneak out of Simon's line of view while the Sentinel made a plea for his heterosexuality.
"Simon…."
"I don't want to hear it!"
"Simon…" even Jim knew he was fighting a lost cause now.
"Look, Ellison, I don't want the details, ok? Just get your ass into gear before we're late."
"Yessir"
"Good. Now kiss Sandburg goodbye and get going." Simon folded his arms and gave a pointed look to the lower room.
Almost abashed, Jim had no choice but to follow, sidling in, gently shutting the door behind him.
Blair was ferreting through his drawers, sarong in place, shooting him a dirty look. "Those lips come anywhere near mine man, and you're singing soprano for a month," he said darkly. "What the fuck ideas have you been giving him??"
"ME??" Jim hissed back. "ME giving him ideas??"
"Well they sure as hell weren't me!" Blair hissed back. "If this gets out at the station, I'm gonna kill you man. You wreck my chances with that brunette and I will make you pay and pay and pay and..."
"..and *I'M* not the one running naked around the loft screaming like a monkey and throwing things!" Jim handed Blair his pants. " Jesus Sandburg..."
Simon coughed pointedly from outside.
"*Monkey?*" Blair yanked on his pants. "This coming from a man that has *no* recognisable body hair apart from his arms, which, I may add, are a hell of a lot hairier that *my* entire body and your head combined! Jesus Jim, whatcha do with those things, raid a rug factory? Fur's outta fashion you know..."
"Ellison..."
"...*plus* the fact that *I'm* the innocent here, I was asleep until some *bastard* poured half a litre of ice between my buttcheeks!"
"ELLISON"
"Shit." Jim ran a hand over his face. "Look, I gotta go. You STAY HERE. I'll try damage control with Simon, see if I can put a lid on this thing before it gets blown outta hand. He might even believe me if I tell him the truth.."
"Sure Jim. Publicly broadcast my violated ass..." Blair shook his head and flapped a hand. "Go, go Jim. Go 'do your thing.'" He slipped on a t-shirt and waited until the older man had left before muttering. "Better waterproof your sheets tonight though, Jim. Payback's a bitch...."
=30=